Bleeding Out

Ultimate

America pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the second location that New York had sent. The drive to the town was around forty five minutes, and he'd just checked the first place Dixie could be.
America sighed and looked up from his phone at the large building. At least he knew what the interior of the building looked like, due to dreamwalking with New Mexico.
The next location wasn't too far away. He should at least double check, make sure this location was really clear.
America popped open the door and started to walk towards the next abandoned warehouse.
It was a cheerfully sunny day, and it felt like the clouds were mocking him with their rays of light. Maybe they weren't mocking him, only doing what weather does because it doesn't have a mind and is controlled by larger things like the ocean or the wind. But it felt like it.
America observed the empty lots around him. Good thing it wasn't harvest season or whatever the humans called it these days. He didn't need people getting in his way.
And then he felt it.
Cold again. The no happiness kind.
Found you. America thought to himself. He pressed himself against the door of the small warehouse. He could feel the shadow on the other side of the door. America gently and silently wiggled the handle, only to find it locked.
He took a deep breath and raised his foot up to kick the door down.
But what if the shadow meant for him to sense it? What if it was all a trick?
But his gut said no. His gut said kick the stupid door down, kick this thing in the ass, and bring Dixie home to all his happy children. And call Japan. That too.
He liked that plan better.
America slammed the heel of his army boot right above the door knob, breaking the lock. The door swung open and slammed against the wall, causing a ripple to go through the building.
A metallic smell hung in the air, and it took him a second to realize. Blood.
But the dread of the situation was overcome with the pleasant look of surprise on the shadow's face.
The shadows jaw was open wide, and he was bending over Dixie. Dixie was worse than the last time he saw. His red skin was now so pale he looked white.
Dixie let out a wheezy, hacking laugh. "You better run."
Instead the shadow dipped its hands in the bucket of black blood. "You are a fool to come to save your brother. You would've been better off-"
"What is with the emphasis on the words?" America shook his head. "It doesn't really strike fear in the hearts of man."
"You dare," snarled the shadow, rearing up. "I am something you will never be able to fathom. I am your very nightmares personified! I will take everything you love and-"
BANG
BANG
BANG
The Shadow doubled over as America's bullets tore through its greasy skin. "You like my friend here?" America shot it again- BANG- right through where its head was supposed to be. "It's a Sig p-three-six-five. Carbon steel coated. One of my favorites."
The Shadow laughed darkly, the bullet holes smoothing themselves over. "You really thought that would work?"
"Not really," America reholstered the P365, and reached into his duffle bag. "It was worth a shot."
He dropped the bag to reveal a submachine gun, but the shadow launched himself at him and tackled him to the ground.
America dove to the floor and rolled out of the reach of the Shadows bloody arms. The shadow went for the bag full of weapons, and America's leg moved instinctively and kicked the bag out the door, away from the leering reach of the Shadow.
He rolled all the way to Dixie, who looked like he was having a hard time focusing.
"America," He wheezed.
"Hey Dix," America immediately went to undo his chains.
"Yo' bett'r wa'ch ou'." Dixies eyes crossed then uncrossed. "There's a nugget on the floor here somewher'. It's a slippin' hazard." He then let out a string of curse words.
America felt the whistling of an arm swinging towards his head and caught it. He spun around the Shadow, pinning the arm against its back. Or tried too.
America was thrown through the shadows body, and against the wall. The building shuttered violently.
"Ame." Dixie whispered as the shadow pinned the country against the wall. "Look out."
"Thanks for the tip," America wheezed as the shadow punched him in the stomach.
America managed to slip away, due to the shadows slippery arms. But he stumbled forward, and almost fell over. A fist caught him hard in the back, and he completely face-planted. He tried to roll over, but was stopped by a foot on his back.
"You're always the one saving everyone else," the Shadow laughed as America tried to push himself away from the shadow. He felt Dixie's blood from the Shadow's foot roll down the side of his shirt. It must have dipped it in the bucket before stepping on him.
"But who's going to rescue you now?" Then with a sharp crack, the foot was brought down hard. He felt a rib snap. America let out a yell of pain.
"But who is going to protect you? Poor defenseless America."
America gasped for air as the shadow pushed down his foot slowly. With a burst of strength and adrenaline, America pushed himself upright, throwing the shadow off guard. The foot came down again, but the country was too slow to dodge it. It made contact with his jaw, which made a painful cracking noise as he rolled backward. America fell on the dusty concrete floor with a slap and gagged when he tasted his own blood in his mouth.
"I think you almost bruised my ankle." The Shadow complained, grinning. "This is getting fun. Watching you squirm."
And then America had a really bad idea. "Please, I've been hit harder by him."
America jumped out of the way back to Dixie and grabbed one of the chains that bound him. He snapped it off the wall, then grabbed the cuff from Dixie's bloody wrist.
Dixie whimpered.
"Sorry brother." America said. In one smooth motion he broke the cuff in two, the shackles falling to the ground.
The Shadow laughed at the way America planted his feet and clung to the heavy, metal chain. "You can't hurt me with that. I am like you. I cannot die from beating or loss of blood or pain or broken limbs."
But you see, the shadow was right. He probably couldn't die. But America had succeeded in putting one "country" to rest for all eternity. He had done it to Bloodstained, Dixie had watched him from his head.
The Shadow pranced forward, and America feinted towards the bucket of blood. He dipped the chains into the black substance, right as the shadow turned around. America swung the chain, wrapping it around the shadows neck.
The Shadow gurgled, and thrashed around, but America had him right where he wanted him. The shadow threw him forward, and he slammed into the body that was now coated in Dixie's plasma.
America grabbed the otherside of the chain and pulled, flexing his muscles and pulling the chain tighter around its neck.
The Shadow clawed and gasped at the chains.
"You see," America growled, "I don't need people to save me. I'm fine on my own. My people are strong. They will find a way to deal with their problems. Even if it kills them. Even if it kills me." He felt the cracks in his chest. If he faded away, it would be okay. California and Texas and Alaska and Arizona, Hawaii, they would be okay.
  America tightened the chains even more, he could feel the chain start to go through flesh. "The world will keep on turning. The world will keep living. And that's fine with me."
With every ounce of power he had, he pulled the chain entirely through the Shadow's neck. It slid through, not passing through any bone, but doing the job America needed it to do.
The figure stumbled forward, its head slid off its shoulders onto the floor, and the entirety of it disappeared into dust.
Ame stood there panting for a couple seconds, looking at the pile of dust, watching it, looking for any sign that it was alive. But nothing stirred. Just a pile of dust. He dropped the chain onto it, watching the dust particles swirl around it. Nothing.
"Wow," Dixie slurred from the corner. "Tha' wa' realllll good battle. I knew you' win thoug'."
America laughed a bit. He walked towards Dixie and grabbed the other cuff and snapped it off. "Thanks for the support."
He gently grabbed Dixie's arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, helping him upright. Then he stepped in something.
"Uhg!" America looked down at what he had just stepped in. Chicken nugget.
"I tried to war' 'ou." Dixie mumbled as his head rolled a bit.
America patted his arm. "I'll make sure to listen to you more."
"Yo' be't pretty boy. Bet you're ne'er ste'ped in anythin' oth'r than tha' fa'cy sidewal' and paveme'."
"Whatever. At least I knew to snap the chains. You could've saved me the trouble of breaking my rib and possibly my jaw."
"He wa' watchin' me too closely! An' I never got a cha'ce. Ah was tooooooo weak."
"Sure."
"I wasss!"
"Sure."
"I WAH!"